Frankie & Mrs. Young Ch. 02byNymphWriter©
Frankie stood on the porch of what was Mrs. Young's house. Behind the door before him, was the house where he learned how to make love to a woman. A year before, he was a high school graduate with some scholarships and lawn mowing money he'd spent four years earning getting ready to attend college. He was also a virgin. That, however, was the only thing he wasn't before he left. That was taken care of by Sandra, or Mrs. Young when they weren't being intimate. It was a beautiful June day and Frankie stared at the door, with the key in his hand.
His thoughts drifted back to what was a cool day in October while he was in his first semester of college. It was when he learned that his private tutor and favorite client had passed away from a terminal brain tumor. A fact she had kept from everyone except her doctor. Frankie had just finished his last midterm and was sitting in his dorm room with Sam, his roommate, discussing how to celebrate the end of midterms when his cell phone rang.
"Hello?" asked Frankie.
"Frankie," sobbed his mom.
"Mom? What is it?"
"Mrs. Young... passed away."
"Either last night or this morning."
"No one knows yet. We were going to go out for coffee and, oh Frankie, I found her in her bed. I called 911 but they said it was too late and nothing could be done."
Frankie's heart sank as he listened to his mom weep. It reminded him of when he was a small child and how she'd cry, usually about his dad, and he'd hold her while she'd cry in his hair. "Do you want me to come home, Mom?"
"No. You've got school and I know Sandra wouldn't want you to neglect your studies."
"I want to come for her funeral, Mom."
"Her lawyer is coming by later to talk to me. He said something about the arrangements already been made. I'll call you later when I know more."
"Okay Mom. Are you sure you don't want to come home now?"
"No Frankie. Stay there and don't miss class. I'll call you in a few days when I know more."
The funeral was the following weekend so Frankie could attend without missing class. It was there Mrs. Young's lawyer, Mr. Rosin, handed Frankie an envelope. In it was her farewell to him in a letter that he carried in his wallet everywhere he went. At Christmas, Frankie learned that Mr. Young, Mrs. Young's ex-husband, was contesting the will, claiming that Mrs. Young wasn't of sound mind. Mr. Rosin got the court to schedule the hearing during Frankie's Spring Break, as he needed to be there.
Frankie hated that his entire Spring Break was spent in court. Mrs. Young's doctor testified that she learned her fate just days before the Thompson's left for their niece's wedding. Frankie realized that it was just a few days before she joined him in the erotic shower, and changed his life forever. He thought back to the letter in his wallet, and how she spoke of the courage to do what she did. The doctor shared that she lived longer than he had expected and admitted that she had good and bad days, which often resulted in odd injuries to her body, mostly from falls due to the tumor affecting her fine and gross motor skills. Frankie suspected he might have been the cause of a few of those odd injuries due to her desire to experiment sexually.
Frankie testified that he had worked for Mrs. Young and the other ladies of his neighborhood for four summers mowing lawns and maintaining their yards including trimming the trees and bushes six days a week. He told the court that Mrs. Young, Mrs. Jones, and Mrs. Garcia fed him lunch even though he never asked. When Mr. Young's lawyer questioned Frankie about her last summer, Frankie admitted to being in the home and helping fix things that were broken, including a clogged toilet, a broken shelf, and other minor repairs that seemed to be needed between his visits. He testified about how he had done repairs for her in the past, but not to the level he had that final summer and thought it was the due to the house being old and things just wearing out. He also shared that they made plans for him to help her decorate her home for Christmas when he planned to come home for his Thanksgiving break, and take the decorations down before he returned to school at the end of his winter break.
Frankie's mom testified how she and Mrs. Young met every Wednesday for coffee. Mrs. Young would ask about Frankie's progress in school, how she missed his biweekly visits to mow her lawn, and asked when he would return. Frankie's mom shared how she was the one that found Sandra dead in her bed when she was late for their coffee date. Mr. Rosin played the 911 call and the paramedics testified that she had died in the night and nothing could be done to resuscitate her. Frankie's heart ached listening to his mom's frantic call and the calm demeanor of the paramedics. This wasn't just some woman to him; this was his first lover, and his first love.
To Frankie, the trial dragged on. On Thursday, the judge declared that Mrs. Young was of sound mind and was entitled to leave her estate to Frankie, as he was practically a son to her, and had given no indication to anyone, except the doctor who knew better, that she was dying. The fact that she had made plans for Christmas, knowing she would not live to see it, was how she struggled to hide her condition even from Frankie's mom, her closest friend. The judge also stated that since Mr. Young did contest the will, he was enforcing the clause that stated if he did, he was to receive only one-percent of an account that Mrs. Young had established for him. Thus, instead of getting the $100,000, he received $1,000 and made to pay all the court costs.
Now, Frankie stood on the porch of his new home, took the key in his hand, and unlocked the door. He turned the knob, the door creaked open, and he stepped in. The furniture was covered in sheets and a thin layer of dust lay on the floor. Frankie looked around and was flooded with memories. There was the couch were she had him tie her wrists and ankles. He remembered is so well. It was a Saturday evening, about two or three weeks before he left for school, and she had asked him to come over to fix a broken shelf. She swore she set a vase on it, but the damage didn't fit the story. He fixed the shelf quickly, and she invited him to stay for dinner. She fixed him a steak, with macaroni and cheese, and corn on the cob. Frankie's mom was on a date and would be gone for hours while Sandra (as it was their intimate time) wanted to do something new and kinky. She showed Frankie the special restraints she bought, placed a double layer of thick bath towels on the sofa cushions to avoid any damage from their combined sexual fluids, and told him to tie her to the couch naked.
While she stripped down, Frankie lit a few candles, dimmed the lights, and tied her to the couch exactly as she asked. The restraints were soft, smooth leather with fur lining the parts that would encounter her skin to prevent irritation. Frankie put the cuffs around each of her wrists and tightened them so she couldn't slip out, then tied the two together with the special ties meant for such a purpose. He made Sandra lay on the sofa, face up, naked, and stretched her arms above her head. He took the straps of the cuffs and tied them of the end table that sat next to the couch. She made no effort to stop him, but watched in silence, licking her lips. The ankle restraints were a bit larger, and lacked the ability to be connected like the wrist ones. He placed one around her left ankle first, making sure she couldn't free herself or be injured, then moved her leg so it went along the top of the sofa, tying it the rear leg. He repeated the process with her right ankle, placed her foot on the floor, and attached the strap to the front sofa leg. This placed Sandra in the most lewd, vulnerable, and exposed position she'd ever been in.
Then she said, "Frankie, I want you to blindfold me, and make me cum without your cock. Use what you wish, your tongue, your fingers, but not your cock. And not until I say. Make me beg for your cock Frankie. Then, feed it to me first. Don't cum in my mouth. Not tonight. And don't untie me until we are done. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sandra," he said softly as he checked her restraints.
"Any questions Frankie?"
A million questions ran though Frankie's mind. Why did she want such a restricted session? Why couldn't he cum in her mouth? Why was she so specific when so many times she let him do what he wanted? Yet he knew, for the most part, he was going to be doing what he wanted. He was going to bring her pleasure, make her cum, and in the end, they would make love. He never thought of these sessions as fucking, but as lessons in love making and pleasing his partner. Just before he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, he kissed her softly, and stared deeply into her eyes. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but the words wouldn't form. She smiled and mouthed, "I know," as he slipped the blindfold over her eyes.
"Play some music Frankie," she whispered. "Something soft and romantic."
Frankie walked over to the stereo and found a CD marked "Love Songs." As cliché as it sounded, Frankie slipped the disc into the CD player, hit play, and heard Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing". He smiled as he walked over to Sandra and gently stroked her hair. Frankie grabbed the cushion from a nearby chair and set it on the floor, then knelt down on it. Sandra gasped as she felt his fingers tickle her flesh as he kissed his way from her feet, up her legs, past her pussy, across her stomach to her nipples. His hands cupped and kneaded her firm breasts and he watched her nipples harden as she moaned softly. He leaned in, kissed them softly, licking and sucking her nipples. Sandra giggled, squirming under the restraints, but not saying much else. Frankie could feel his rock hard cock throb and drip pre-cum onto his leg, awaiting its entry into Sandra's mouth and vagina.
The music played on as Frankie caressed and kissed her bare flesh. He nibbled his way down her stomach to her pubic hair. She always kept area nicely trimmed in a triangle pattern. He kissed along the blonde edge, reflecting on how it pointed to the origin of life, and his lost virginity. The curly hair tickled his chin as he kissed down to her clit and labia. She gasped as his lips touched her sex, the area of her womanly goodness. Frankie licked her clit, twirling his tongue around it as a new song played softly in the background. He slid two fingers deep into her pussy and sucked her clit into his mouth. The sweet taste of her sex filled his mouth and drove his desire. He could smell her arousal, the sweet musky aroma that haunted his dreams, fueled his passion, and made him want to fuck her harder than ever before. His cock stood rock hard between his legs and he wanted to fill her with his erection, but wanted to respect her wishes.
Sandra squirmed and moaned, but still said nothing. Frankie remembered she wanted him to make her beg so he slid his fingers from her sex and into her anus. Sandra gasped and smiled. "Good boy," she whispered.
Frankie smiled, knowing that she liked what he was doing. He sucked her clit into his mouth and nibbled as his fingers worked inside her rectum. Sandra squirmed and moaned. He could tell she was close so he backed off and waited. She hissed and gasped, but said nothing. Frankie repeated the process several times when finally she screamed, "Fucking hell boy!"
Frankie looked up, surprised. He was sure she had asked him to do exactly what he was doing, but now she seemed angry. "Something wrong?" he asked.
The anger in her face disappeared and she smiled. "Please Frankie, make me cum now."
Frankie remembered she wanted him to 'make her beg,' so he smiled wickedly and said, "I don't know Sandra, you did yell at me."
When their affair had first started, Frankie would have never been so defiant with her. But tonight he was trying to follow her instructions, though he didn't like to be this way with her. Sandra smiled wickedly and said, "You're right. But I only yelled because you kept getting me so close then you stop."
"I know," said Frankie.
He knew exactly how close she was to an orgasm and it was killing him to make her wait. "Then finish me! Make me cum!"
Frankie shook his head, "No, I think I will get dressed and go home."
Frankie was silently praying she wouldn't call his bluff. He wanted to make love to her, but he also wanted to please her and fulfill her odd request. Sandra seemed to glare at him through her blindfold then hissed, "You wouldn't fucking dare?"
Frankie knew he had to see this through, so he stood up and grabbed his boxers. "I'm sorry Sandra, but I think I should leave."
Frankie turned his back on Sandra and started to slip his boxers on. He knew if he looked at her, he'd crack and go back. He heard her grunt then she said softly, sweetly, "Frankie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled when I asked you to do what you are doing. It was wrong. Please Frankie, I really need to cum and I want to suck your amazing cock. I know I said I wouldn't swallow your seed but I will if you really want me to, though I really wanted to feel you cum deep inside my kitty."
The last word caught Frankie's ears. She had never used the term 'kitty' before, and he wondered why she did now. "I don't know Sandra."
"PLEASE!" she begged. "Make me cream!"
Frankie turned around. This was the second time she used an odd word, but he saw the desperation on her face. He dropped his boxers and quickly returned to her, kneeling down and burying his face into her pussy. He slid his fingers into her vagina and ass. Within moments, she was screaming as her orgasm raged through her body. Her body shook, her juices flooded from her pussy, and Frankie found her screams drove him wild. He didn't want to stop, but he did after a second orgasm. Then he stood up, his cock rock hard, and grabbed her head saying, "My turn."
Sandra smiled, opened her mouth, and sucked his cock. Frankie loved watching her mouth take his entire member, how amazing her lips felt around his shaft, and how the head of his cock felt hitting the back of her throat. Usually he let her control the blowjob, but this time he thrust within her mouth, fucking it the same he would her pussy. After a few minutes, he pulled out and knelt back down, slipping his cock into her sex. The music played in the background, lost to the sound of his cock sliding into her sopping pussy. Sandra gasped and moaned as his cock filled her vagina so perfectly. Soon she was experiencing a third orgasm. Frankie grunted and growled with each thrust, sweat was now pouring down his back. However, he had gotten himself so worked up from the taste of her orgasms, the musky smell of her arousal, and the sound of her screams; he exploded, filled her with his seed, and grunted a primal yell. He collapsed onto her, kissed her passionately, then held her tight. She panted into his shoulder then kissed his salty tasting skin.
"Thank you Frankie."
Frankie sat up and began to untie her with is cock still deep within her. He could feel the cool air on his sweaty skin, and smell the aroma of raw sex in the air. "Did I do what you wanted?"
"You were perfect. Thank you for calling my bluff."
Once her hands were free, he untied her ankles and she pulled the blindfold off. He asked, "Are you feeling all right?"
"You must have been pretty wound up because twice you used different words than you had before."
"I did? No you must be mistaken."
"I don't think so."
"Well, my mind was spinning at the thought of you leaving me unsatisfied. I'm sure that was the problem."
Frankie's spent cock slipped out, he helped her off the sofa, and they cleaned up and dressed. They spent the remainder of the evening dancing. Sandra, now Mrs. Young, told Frankie it was important for a young man to know how to dance with a lady, and taught him basic steps that he could easily modify to different types of music. The dancing lessons were something Mrs. Young began to insist on shortly after their love affair began.
Now, as sun filled the room, Frankie's hand slowly moved along the frame of the couch, remembering the different sexual encounters they shared. He could almost feel her presence in the room. Frankie stepped over to the stereo and turned it on. The CD player was still set and he heard "Sexual Healing" play, taking him back to that magical and erotic night. Frankie smiled and walked into Sandra's bedroom. There was the bed with the solid wooden base, the blue bedding, and all of her furniture. Frankie smiled as he thought of how many hours of passionate lovemaking he had shared with Sandra. Yes, he would keep the bed for now. He stepped out and walked into the different bedrooms. They had made love in each bed at least twice, and except for the kitchen, had enjoyed an erotic moment everywhere in the house.
As he emerged back into the living room, he saw his mother standing at the door. Unfortunately for Frankie, he was suffering from quite an erection from his memories. However, her presence cured his condition rather quickly. He walked up and said, "Come on in, Mom."
She stepped in slowly. "How are you doing?"
"Made any decisions yet?"
"About what you're going to do with the house."
"Oh, I think I'll keep it. I mean, the market sucks to hell right now and I'm sure there are some repairs that must be made. Mrs. Young had me fix a lot before I left, but after what her doctor had said I'm sure there's more damage that I don't know about yet."
"That is quite possible. Did I tell you that the fridge is unplugged?"
"No, you didn't."
"The day after Sandra passed, I asked that nice Mr. Rosin if a few of us could come in and get rid of the food that would spoil and shut the fridge down."
"That was pretty smart of you Mom."
"Millie and I split the food up and donated what neither of us could use. Have you called the electric company, water company, or the gas company?"
"Not yet Mom."
"Well, I'd get on that if you're going stay here."
"Why do you think Mrs. Young left me so much?"
Frankie's mom smiled gently and said, "Sandra loved you like a son. She would ask me about you all the time when you were in school. Did you know she couldn't have children?"
"No, I didn't."
"Yeah, so she saw you as the son she never had. You may not remember this, but she used to make you mac and cheese and lemonade all the time."
Frankie thought for a moment. He remembered the food, but not that Mrs. Young had made it for him. "I always thought you made that for me."
"No, Sandra knew how stressed out I was and how much you loved it. She gave me the recipe when you got older. It's why when you'd ask for it I'd tell you in a day or two. I'd call her that night and she'd make it special for you the next day. She made me promise to never tell you, but I guess it's okay that you know the truth now."
Frankie felt himself choke up. He had no idea that Mrs. Young had done that for him. "Mom, can I stay at your house tonight since I won't be able to do much here until tomorrow?"
"Frankie, you're welcome home any time. You know that."
Frankie smiled and walked back to his mom's house, after locking his, and used her phone to call the necessary utility companies to get things set up. By the end of the week, he had the utilities on and Internet working so he could stay on top of his e-mails easier. For the next month, Frankie stayed in the house and checked for the damages that Mrs. Young might have caused in her condition. In early July, a knock came from the front door. Frankie opened it to find Mr. Young standing there.
"May I come in?" asked Mr. Young.
"Sure," said Frankie, moving to allow him in.